


every story has its scars

by quinnking



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Death, F/M, and a bit of happiness, revival spoilers and speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 01:37:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5438702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quinnking/pseuds/quinnking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Thank you."</p><p>He wants to ask, for what? Wants to kiss her on the forehead and rub her back lazily with his fingers, wants to take all the pain away but they're not them anymore. She's Scully and he's Mulder. They're not Mulder and Scully.</p>
            </blockquote>





	every story has its scars

**Author's Note:**

> based on spoilers and speculation for the revival. :') enjoy.
> 
> listen to remedy by adele. :)

_when the world seems so cruel and your heart makes you feel like a fool, i promise you will see that i will be, i will be your remedy._

_**I** _

He's just starting to fall asleep as his phone chimes. He ignores it, against his better judgment because he's drained, but then it starts to ring. Groaning, he rolls over toward his nightstand.  _  
_

"Mulder." His voice is gruff and thick, a yawn threatening to break lose.

A sniffle. 

"Scully?" 

"She's gone."

It's all she has to say, and it's like a large bucket of ice cold water is thrown on him because he's up quicker than he thought was even possible in his tired state. "Are you still at the hospital?" 

"Yes."

He puts on his clothes quickly and grabs his keys. "I'll be right there." 

_**II** _

It took a little while to find her in the hospital, but he sees her outside of her mother's room with something clenched in a fist as her head is lowered onto both hands. He walks over to her and takes a long breath, because he's not prepared. Because she has lost so much, and he knows it. She knows it. 

"Scully." His hand is on his back and for a second she doesn't move, so he assumes he just hadn't heard her. "Scu-"

She's up now, and her arms are wrapped tightly around his middle. Her cheek is resting against his lapel and he can feel her warm hand on the back of his neck, and also the chain of the blue pendant she's holding.

"She's gone," she says quietly, into his shirt. Her face is red and blotchy and she's still beautiful. 

He doesn't say anything.  _I'm sorry_ would have been too mundane.  _I know how you feel_ is too redundant. Silence, silence works. Especially for them, when he tucks her head underneath his chin and rubs her back with his hand. 

They stand there for what feels like forever. It sounds like her crying has stopped but she's gripping onto him so tight. 

So he says, "hey, c'mon, I'll take you home." 

And she agrees.

_**III** _

He has her address stored in his phone but he's never actually been to her new apartment. He gets her in safely and closes the door behind him, and she's just standing there. He's honestly at a loss, and the best thing he  _thinks_ he can do is lead her to her bedroom.

She kicks off her clothes unceremoniously and crawls into bed, and he doesn't know what to do. He turns to leave but as he does he hears her ask, "can you stay with me tonight?"

He doesn't know what to say. He can't say no. He won't say no. But does she want him to sleep in her bed with her, does she want him to take the floor, the couch in the living room, _what?_ He shuffles toward the bed and she moves aside for him to lay down.

He kicks off his shoes and takes off all of his clothes except his boxers, and gets under the covers (the bed is so soft, and as he burrows his head into the pillow, he finds it smells like her). 

They lay there in silence and he can hear the ticking of the clock that's on her wall. He counts the ticks.

Ninety one, ninety two, ninety th-

She turns herself completely and nestles herself into him. The smell of her on the pillow is  _nothing_ compared to her in person. He closes his eyes, revels in it, wishes this was their habit every night and not just on a night of sadness. 

"Mulder?" she murmurs, quiet and low, her lips moving against his neck and he shivers.

"Yeah?"

She doesn't respond but he feels her lick her lips and move even closer to him. "Thank you."

He wants to ask,  _for what?_ Wants to kiss her on the forehead and rub her back lazily with his fingers, wants to take  _all_ the pain away but they're not them anymore. She's Scully and he's Mulder. They're not Mulder and Scully. 

Her breathing evens out and he knows she's finally asleep. 

Ninety three, ninety four, ninety five...

And then he's asleep, too.

_**IV** _

He wakes up before her. The sun is shining through the drapes on her windows and it's giving her an ethereal glow that makes his heart beat quicker.

He shifts, because they haven't moved all night and he's slightly uncomfortable, and he's _pressed against her._ This must have woken her too because he sees one bright blue eye staring up at him from his side.

"Morning," he says softly.

"Morning," she answers him.

They just look at each other, not speaking. It's not uncomfortable but it's not exactly comforting either. Finally, he speaks. 

"What did you thank me for last night?"

She closes her eyes and then reopens them a few beats later. "For staying with me." Her voice is scratchy. He waits for her to continue. "You had no obligation to, especially after everything... and I wouldn't have called if it wasn't her." 

"You don't have to thank me," he tells her.

Her eyes flash with curiosity, he knows the look well, but she doesn't push. He feels her press a kiss to his neck, a soft kiss that he could have looked past if she hadn't done it again. And again. And starts to shift her body lower.

She's kissing down his chest, stopping just shy of his boxers.

"Scully, wait," he tries.

She looks up at him, expectantly. 

He takes a moment.  _To hell with it,_ he thinks, because this may be the last time ever. And he knows how she's like. This is a sincere form of intimacy for her. 

"Lay on your back."

"What?"

"Flip onto your back."

She furrows her brows but does as she's told anyway. He knows he can't have sex with her, because that would end up badly for the both of them. No matter how much he wants to. Has wanted to. 

He gets rid of her pajama pants and panties and goes to work on her. His tongue flicks her clit to warm up and dips lower, to find that she's soaking wet. Her fingers clench his hair tightly in her fists and her own head is pushed back against the plush white of the pillows.

He slips two fingers into her and crooks them up, causing her hips to push up. His mouth wraps around her clit and he fucks her with his fingers hard. She doesn't need soft sex; what she needs, right now and he  _knows_ it because he knows her and her reactions, is a release.

She tightens around his fingers and as soon as he uses his canines to bite down gently on her clit, her hips gyrate into his hand and she's coming. He looks up and finds her nimble fingers are tweaking her own nipple and his own hips shift into the mattress at the view. 

"Mulder," she moans, and he feels the gush go down his hand. 

He keeps thrusting his fingers until she stops altogether and waits until she looks at him. He removes his fingers and sucks them clean, the petty part of him enjoying how her pupils dilate and how she licks her lips. Fun fact he's learned about Dana Katherine Scully is that she enjoys giving blowjobs.

He lays beside there and they sit in silence.

"Is this another mistake?" he asks, because since they've separated, they've slept together multiple times. Each time was a  _mistake_. 

She takes a moment to answer. "No." 

"No?"

She shakes her head and doesn't answer. He doesn't think she's going to say anything at all until he looks at her and she says, "thank you." Again.

"For the orgasm?"

She gives a semblance of a smile. "Yes, and for staying. I know... we haven't been  _us_. We aren't us. And you stayed anyway."

"You stayed with me for all those years despite everything, Scully. Even if you called because you broke your left pinky toe, I would have come running."

A question is burning in his mind and he doesn't want to ruin the light mood.

"Do you still love me?" he can't help but ask. He knows the answer, of course, but he has to hear her say it.

"Yes," she answers without missing a beat. "I do. I wouldn't have called...let this happen... otherwise."

More silence, until she shuffles and reaches for her phone. "Six missed calls from Bill and three from Charlie," she mutters with a huff. "They probably expect me to do the funeral arrangements since I was the closest with her..."

She looks him dead in the eye.

"Will you come?"

"To the funeral?"

"Yes."

He bites his bottom lip. "If you want."

"I do. She loved you, you know. A lot. You were almost like a son to her, and she'd always cherish the man who loved her daughter like you had."

 _I love you._ "Yes."

She moves to get up. "Do you...do you want to maybe grab coffee before I meet with them?" 

"Of course," he says. And means it, because why would he say no? 

He has hope now. 

"Come on, I need to shower." She walks toward the door that leads to the bathroom. She looks over her shoulder at him. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah."

 


End file.
